Amber Heart
by dragonheartt
Summary: Conphen!Verse AU : Connor's the son of an influential, wealthy family in a small town, who reluctantly returns home after a failed attempt to be independent from his family's money. Stephen's found himself out of a job he thought he'd been promised at CMU, with limited options that all point to one town. Then the Temple family jewel goes missing... (Period Style AU)
1. Chapter 1

**Conphen!Verse AU : Amber Heart : Part 1**

Prompt: The story starts when your protagonist returns to a childhood home. Another character is a letter carrier who is the most attractive person your protagonist has ever met.

AN: I was playing with a random scenario generator, and this one prompt caught hold of my mind and wouldn't let go ;D So I'm throwing all the cliches their way and hoping I manage to make the boys react in a non-cliched manner… woo!

* * *

Stephen Hart blinks, his blood running cold.

"What do you mean? Professor Nicholas Cutter offered me a position as his lab assistant the moment I returned!" He barely keeps his voice steady, glaring at the receptionist.

"I understand, sir, but as he never properly cleared it with the offices…." The woman explained, looking bored.

"Bloody bureaucracy, is what it is!"

"I must apologize, Mr. Hart, but there is nothing I can do."

That is okay. Truly. He can find a job on his own.

x_X_X

"C'mon, Dunc, it will be just for a few days! I promise!" Connor pleads, turning his best 'puppydog' look on his 'friend'. Duncan appears to be apologetic, but shakes his head.

"Sorry, Conn, but I can't."

"But I have no where else I can go! Please?!"

"Why don't you go home?" Duncan suggested.

A thousand retorts run through Connor's mind, but Duncan has already closed the door in his face. He sighs. He had believed Tom and Duncan to be his friends.

_Go home… as if it is that easy! Crawl home with my tail between my legs, a failure! My parents will be more than pleased that I return, however, I know they will point out where I failed in this endeavor many times on purpose, so that I do not try again to be independent_.

Connor snorts, rolling his eyes.

_They are right of course, I never had a chance. Maybe home is the right place for me…_

x_X_X

Connor Temple's family is one of prestige and great wealth in a small town that is home to many that are similar to(but obviously less influential than, say his parents firmly) the Temple family. The town is small and not only close-minded, but also very unwelcoming to outsiders.

By the next day, it is public knowledge that Connor has just returned from trying to make his own way into the world, without his parents' money or help, having been left with no options otherwise. He avoids the neighbors for the next week whilst waiting for the rumor mills to die down.

x_X_X

Stephen Hart's family used to live in the town, but they moved when he was 10. Having lost all prospects of employment at the prestigious university despite attempts to rectify the bureaucratic mistake, the man - a scientist and tracker - finds himself with very few options.

The town he was born in, Stephen discovers, is in need of a courier, as the previous, an older gentleman, died recently. The courier's office head recognizes him as the child who used to help out around town 19 years ago, and he's almost immediately employed.

However, no one else in the town recognizes Stephen, and they believe he is a newcomer, so on the most part they ignore him, only retrieving the letters he brings after he has moved on to the next home, or, if they must take letters from him, no eye contact is made, nor words exchanged.

Connor Temple doesn't recognize Stephen either, though they had met once or twice as children.

And then, one day, he goes to retrieve the post at the same moment Stephen is delivering it to the house… and he can't help but stare openly at tanned skin and dark blonde hair, at pale blue eyes that dazzle, at muscles more implied than obvious, belying his strength. He has a square jawline, a tapering chin, and there are laugh lines that set off the coolness of his eyes and tell of good humor. Connor thinks Stephen is the most attractive man he has ever seen, more than just handsome, and he wonders what the man is like, something urging him to get to know this stranger. He goes with the impulse of saying —

x_x_x

"Hello!" Stephen Hart looks up at the enthusiastic greeting, the first one he has received since he was employed as courier in this town. His gaze focuses on the young man's utterly beautiful large, expressive chocolate brown eyes, swirling with a hint of amber, gets lost in them. Then his gaze moves to his lips, a naturally bright color and with an adorable cupid's bow... and he wonders what it would feel like to kiss them. Stephen goggles the man's pale skin, likely prone to blushing, the narrow shoulders, the waistcoat and dress shirt that are nearly too tight on the man's wiry frame…. he suddenly realizes he's staring at this stranger, and blinks. The man has thick, dark hair, is about his age (if a year or two younger), and is currently flushing adorably.

"Hi." Stephen says, expecting scorn to show on this young man's face at his vernacular. Instead, he gets a warm smile.

"Erm, are there any letters for me?" His voice is soft and warm, and Stephen has to give himself a mental shake.

"What's your name?" Stephen asks. He generally just looks for the address on the post and on the homes, but as he inquired specifically after ones addressed to him alone…

"Connor. Connor Temple." Stephen nearly drops his courier's bag in surprise. He's talking to the son of the wealthiest family in the area. He's been wanting to kiss the lips of the son of the wealthiest family in the area. Stephen gives a mental groan, and puts on a perfect poker face, determined not to give anything away.

Connor looks at the courier, watching in confusion as the man's handsome, expressive face closes down.

_What have I said wrong?_ Connor thinks worriedly, wracking his brain for any possible blunder.

"What's yours?" He asks, slipping into the same manner of speech he'd grown accustomed to while trying his hand at being independent. The courier gives him a strange look.

"Stephen Hart." He says, and then Stephen clears his throat, looking through the bag for letters addressed to Connor Temple. "There's one letter for you. Sir," he says, and the word feels strange on his tongue. Connor sighs, knowing what he's done. By saying his last name, he ruined any chances of being treated normally by Stephen. "And several others addressed to your family."

Connor quietly takes the letters, feeling disappointed as he looks at the other.

"Thanks." He mutters, turning away from Stephen. "Have a nice day." He says, hollowly.

Stephen's shoulders slump and he stands there as the door is closed. He thought that was how Connor would be used to being treated - would _want _to be treated. He hadn't considered that maybe the other's in the same boat as he, so to speak.

"Damnit."

As Stephen walks towards the next house, a smile forms on his face.

Tommorow's a new day. On the morrow he'll apologize...

* * *

TBC in Part 2


	2. Chapter 2

Stephen did not, absolutely did not, spend the rest of his postal route planning how he would apologize to Connor Temple on the morrow. He also did not, of course, think about practicing what he would say, out loud, upon returning home. If he garnered stranger looks than normal from the Temples' neighbors, and there was a certain lightness to his step that had not been there before, well, it was an inordinately nice day. His good humor had nothing whatsoever to do with the beautiful young man he would like to get to know.

Stephen repeated that in his head several times, willing himself to believe it.

He was humming on the way back from his route.

x_x_X_X

Connor stared at the door after he had closed it, shoulders sagging. He berated himself for feeling so out of sorts over Hart. Yes, the man was extremely attractive, and perhaps he had a good mind as well, but Connor had no reason to be upset about being treated as he was due by someone, no matter their appearance or personality.

He sighed, letting go of that thought. It sounded too much like his parents' sort of thinking, and he did not agree at all. His choice in acquaintances at university were proof of the fact that he did not care about social class. He knew he was upset because something about the man, more than just his attractiveness, had drawn Connor in, and then the man had addressed him as 'sir' upon discovering his family name.

He had no more time to ruminate on the subject of Stephen Hart, as his mother emerged from the study, and while looking through the letters that had come by post, became engaged in a discussion that took all of his attention.

He spared a thought of Hart, though, wishing he had not told the courier he was of the Temple family. Perhaps tomorrow they could try to hold a discussion again?

* * *

_The next day_

__Connor was restless in his childhood home, feeling stifled by the formality and superiority of his parents, and the home itself. He had been the same as a child, outside as often as he was able to despite asthma and allergies that made his life difficult, and was no different now (though he had less trouble with asthma now, thank goodness). Around midday, he decided upon taking a walk, to enjoy some fresh air.

He walked along the pavement, turned the corner and, on whim, entered the little shop there. It was a smoke shop, which he knew also sold candies, stationary, and other odds and ends, and Connor could never resist purchasing some sweets.

He was strolling and indulging in chocolates and candies, taking his time as he had no urge to return to his previous state of restlessness, when Connor remembered Hart. A strange sort of feeling filed him and made his throat tight, and he began to run, fearing that he would miss the courier. He had no idea why speaking to the man was so important to him, but accepted it as one of those unexplainable things of life. There were many of those, to his understanding.

x_x_X_X

Stephen was still in his good mood throughout his route, despite the still very much cold responses he garnered from the other families. He had of course practiced what he would say, as he didn't want to offend Connor, or make his expressive face close down like that again. It was with a large, silly grin upon his face that Stephen knocked upon the beautiful wooden door (which was a similar color to Connor's eyes, he noted) , and held the post for the Temple household in the other hand.

He bounced on his heels a little, waiting for Connor. Worry began to form, but Stephen stayed standing upon the porch, hoping that this just meant Connor was not in, or was busy, or hadn't heard the knocking.

The door knob was turned, and he could hear the click of the lock. The door opened…

* * *

TBC...

AN: Would you rather Connor returned home in time to be the one opening the door, or wouldyou r ather I whump on stephen's emotions some more before having connor return? ;3


	3. Chapter 3

Connor entered his parents' house through the side door, panting from his run, in a panic.

"Mother! Mum!?" He called. He had not seen the post on the front steps, but that did not mean Hart had not delivered it yet.

"Yes, Connor?" She asked, entering the front hall and smiling at her son. Her smile dropped at his pink-tinged cheeks and the sweat on his brow. "Are you all right? Why are you in such a state?"

Connor chuckled, shaking his head.

"I'm fine, mum. I went on a run, however, I am waiting for a letter, and I did not want to miss it being delivered." He hesitated, "has the courier come by already, do you know?" Connor asked, doing his best to mask his eagerness.

"No, he has not, to my knowledge." His mum wasn't frowning, but that did not mean anything. She patted his cheek with her hand and then turned, walking away.

"What sort of letter are you waiting for, Connor?" She asked as she walked to the sitting room.

"Nothing of any interest to you, mother." He muttered. "A possible employment opportunity I inquired after, I am waiting to hear from them." He said louder, lying and hoping she would drop the subject.

"Ah. I do not see why you feel the need to find employment. The family money requires no work of us, you know that." She commented from the other room.

"Yes mum, I know." Connor replied, whipping his head around at a knock on the front door. His heart began racing again, though he was no longer running, and he stood there, debating what he ought to do. He was not sure if he wanted to be seen as he was, sweaty and dishevelled... but he couldn't not open the door, else he would be seen by Stephen to be the same as his parents and neighbors. And that he did not want. Connor reached towards the doorknob, and then pulled away.

With a deep, steadying breath, Connor overcame his hesitation, grabbed the doorknob, turned the key, and pulled the door open. He wished he could exclaim Stephen's name, but he did not want to draw his mother's attention again.

Instead, he grinned at the courier, whose gorgeous blue eyes had lit up.

"One moment." Connor hissed, stepping back to call into the other room.

"Mother, I will be outside for a few moments." He didn't wait for a reply, before he stepped out onto the front walk beside Hart, and shut the door behind him.

"Stephen." Connor greeted, feeling hesitant again. Stephen's smile faltered, and Connor bit his lip. "Hi." He added, grinning sheepishly.

"Hello." Stephen replied, a wry look on his face as they practically reversed the previous day's exchange.

They were both quiet for a moment before Stephen summoned his nerve.

"I am sorry, for yesterday. I assumed quite a lot about you, Connor." He apologized.

"I should not have reacted so harshly to your assumption, though! You could not have known, truly, that I'm not like my parents." Connor stuck  
out his hand. "Maybe we could try again?"

That was music to Stephen's ears, and he grasped Connor's hand firmly, shaking it. The young man's hands were soft, with calluses at the tips that suggested that perhaps he had worked similarly to Stephen's original employment at the university, as he had similar calusses (though Stephen's hands were rougher overall, he knew).

"I'm Stephen Hart, town courier."

"Connor Temple, frustrated son." Stephen snorted in amusement, releasing Connor's hand. Stephen hesitated, before taking the plunge.

"Would you, perhaps, like to get a drink with me after I finish this route, Connor Temple?"

The ex-student felt like his heart had skipped a beat, but he banished that childish notion of love at first sight. He was not going to be a cliche. A drink was just a drink.

"I would love to." Connor replied. They grinned at each other, before Stephen cleared his throat and handed the post in his other hand to him.

"I will see you at six this evening, then." Stephen said. Connor nodded, holding the bundle of letters tightly.

Stephen smiled and walked down the steps, heading towards the next house on his route. He turned and winked at Connor, whose face grew warm with the flush he knew turned his cheeks a bright red. The young man stumbled into his house and closed the door behind him, taking a few moments to compose himself. He had no need to tell his parents who he was to have a drink with later, but a form of the truth would be easier than a lie, or attempting to hide his excitement.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Sorry for the wait, hope you like this chappie!

**REVISED VERSION!**

* * *

Connor returned home later that evening feeling almost as if he could float away, a smile etched on his face and in high spirits. His drink with Stephen had gone well, and they had made plans for lunch in three days' time. He fell asleep that night and dreampt of Stephen's laugh.

X-X-X-X

_/Earlier that evening…/_

He and Stephen met outside his home at 6, and walked together to the nearby tavern. The walk was at first somewhat awkward, the conversation stilted. Connor, somewhat predictably, tripped, and he expected to fall; Stephen caught him, steadying the younger man on his feet.

"Are you alright, Connor?" Stephen asked, frowning with worry.

Connor blinked, flushing as he realized how close they were to one another. He did not say anything about the press of Stephen's hand at his waist, but smiled.

"Yes, but do not worry. I am sorry I did not warn you of my clumsiness earlier, as it is not as uncommon an occurrence as you think." Connor told him, trying for a sense of nonchalance, and not entirely managing it as he did not meet Stephen's eyes.

Stephen was quiet for a moment as they walked, not removing his arm from where it circled Connor's waist, almost as if he had forgotten it was there. He was not ashamed to admit he had no intention of reminding him at this point in time.

"I hope it is not impertinent, but I find myself unable to not worry for your safety and health."

Connor had no good response to that statement, and he blushed, looking forwards. He resisted the urge to pull away as he spotted one of his neighbors walking towards them along the path. He did not want his parents to find out about his interest in Stephen, lest they attempt to stop him from pursuing this, but even less did he desire to seem ashamed to be seen with Stephen. Because he wasn't.

Still, Connor had a feeling Stephen could sense how tense he was, as he let go of his waist. Connor reluctantly pulled away, but did not go very far, falling into step with the man as Mr. Greene walked past them.

As soon as he was out of range, Connor cleared his throat.

"I am not embarrassed to be seen with you in public." he said, glancing at Stephen tentatively. The older man smiled warmly, and his hand brushed against Connor's for a moment.

"Thank you, Connor, your assurance is appreciated, though you don't need to be worried. I would not think so of you." Stephen said, and Connor allowed a sigh of relief.

Conversation turned to idle chatter. Soon they came upon the main street, and headed to the tavern. It was owned by one Abigail "Abby" Maitland, a young woman with both a kind heart and a sharp temper. She knew everyone in the nearby towns, but passed no judgement, and allowed none to be passed upon herself by others. Connor trusted her, and was in fact among those who counted themselves as her friends, but he knew she would tease him mercilessly about that there truly was anything to tease about, as of yet.

That, of course, would be no deterrent to Abby. He would have to make sure she did not have the chance.

x-x-x

Connor laughed at a joke Stephen told, sipping at his drink and grinning more or less like a loon. Stephen had a similar smile on his face, though, so Connor didn't even try to hide his amusement and joy in conversing with the other man. Abby slid Stephen's drink along the bar to him, a quick grin lighting her face as he caught it easily.

"He is better than you at this, Temple." Abby said, chuckling. Connor succumbed to his childish urge, and stuck out his tongue at her.

Stephen's hand was twined with Connor under the bar top, and the blonde man's thumb stroked soothingly over his knuckles. It was fairly distracting, but Connor didn't really mind at all. He was sure that others would think that as he and Stephen hardly knew each other, the intimacy of holding hands was inappropriate, but he could not bring himself to care.

* * *

TBC : more of their first date (because who are they kidding? it's totally a date if they're holding hands, yeah? ;3 ) next chapter, and maybe their second as well. I'll give them time before drama... ;)


	5. Chapter 5

Abigail leaned on the bar counter, gesturing with a sharp tilt of her chin towards Stephen. Connor glanced over his shoulder to watch his… date… walking towards the loo, and found his eyes drawn to Hart's arse. After a moment Abby cleared her throat, and, feeling his face heat with a blush, Connor turned back to find his friend grinning.

"You cannot help it, can you?" She said, and though it was phrased like a question, she didn't give him time to form a rebuttal. "No, do not say anything! I know you, you will say this is not a date, that you're just two friends at a bar, but it is not so!" Abby practically crowed, and Connor felt the temptation to bury his face in his arms atop the bar as every face was now turned towards them.

"Please stop, Abby! Do not be so gleeful, I hardly know him!" He protested, face flaming. Abby tilted her head, blue eyes sharp and the grin dropped to a less intimidating smile, much to his relief.

"Go on you lot, don't you have anything better to do than eavesdrop?!" She said, turning to glare at the other patrons, who quickly continued with their halted conversations. Connor marveled at the linguistic shift - it had not been his focus at university, but his interests in learning were broader than simply paleontological.

He relaxed infinitesimally, knowing Stephen would not now emerge from the gents' to find themselves the center of attention. Hopefully.

"You do feel strongly about him, though?" Abby asked in a lower tone.

Connor hesitated, and then nodded, sharply. "It is possible that I may have already begun to develop affection for him." Abby chuckled, rolling her eyes, and pushed away from the counter, a white scrap of cloth appearing in her hands almost like magic (though he knew she'd grabbed it from the lower counter on her side, or from a pocket) and removed empty glasses from the bar, sweeping the cloth over the wooden surface to wipe away any liquid from condensation or spilled alcoholic beverages.

"'May have begun to develop affection'" She began, her tone teasing, "you are head over heels for that man, my friend, and you know it. You are simply too afraid to say the words." She paused. "It is alright, you will say it eventually, to him I would hope."

Connor sighed.

"Could we please speak of something else now, Abigail?" He said, knowing she disliked the use of her full name. She glared, and then her gaze moved to look at something over his head, and the blue of her eyes sparkled with mischief.

Connor heard a low, familiar laugh, and froze.

"Missing me yet?" Stephen breathed the words near his ear, and the younger man felt his face heat once more.

"Of course he was. Barely said a word since Stephen left, didn't you, Conn?" Abby said, grinning broadly.

"Abby!"

Stephen slid onto his seat and turned a cheerful smile on Connor.

"I am sure that's not true." He said, "Connor is far too talkative to go silent for any long period of time, yes?" There was a level of teasing in Stephen's tone as well, but Connor took no offense at either of his friends' ribbing.

Still, he groaned and huffed in mock-irritation obligingly, rewarded with matching grins from the others in response.

"If we are all done taking the mick…" Connor said, exasperated, hand moving to his glass.

"Another?" Abby asked, and she looked at _Stephen_, as if Connor wasn't _more_ than capable of buying his own drinks!


End file.
